


The Touch

by Dextrousleftie



Category: Pet Shop of Horrors
Genre: Anal Sex, Bonding, Childbirth, Danger, F/M, Love, Lust, M/M, Marriage, Mpreg, OC characters, Romance, Supernatural - Freeform, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-17 10:45:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10592391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dextrousleftie/pseuds/Dextrousleftie
Summary: an ancient enemy of the Kamis has come to Los Angeles. A parasitical evil spirit, it has found a host body and is looking for payback against those who originally imprisoned it.





	

He stood in front of his beautiful new treasure, his eyes gleaming with an acquisitive, triumphant light. At last! It had taken him five years to get it – he’d had to find someone willing to steal it from its temple and smuggle it out of Japan. But at last he’d done it. The gorgeous artifact that he’d first glimpsed on a tour of Shinto temples so long ago was finally in his possession. From the first he’d been fascinated by it – the peculiar but astonishing clay pot that looked simplistic at first – but when you looked more closely at it, you saw that it had a strange patina on the outside. It caused a shimmering effect that somehow distorted the geometric designs and lines carved into the pot by some ancient craftsman. The vessel almost seemed to glow in the mellow light shining down onto its display case in his private collection room. 

There was a face on one side of the pot, a weirdly elongated face with slits for eyes and an open, yowling mouth. He wondered briefly if it was the representation of a demon – which would be odd in a sacred artifact for such a benevolent religion as Shinto, but still – what else could it be? It certainly didn’t look like some peaceful nature spirit. Of course there were violent nature spirits as well, which were just as acknowledged and worshipped in Japan. Nature had two faces, the peaceful gentle one and the violent and bloody one. And both had their place in the world. It was all about balance, about harmony between the light and the darkness. 

Whatever the case, he now had his precious artifact. It had arrived only yesterday, smuggled into L.A. from a cargo ship that had arrived from Thailand. The pot had made its way through roundabout paths from Japan to China and from thence to Thailand, where it had been hidden aboard the not-so-savory cargo vessel that would bring it to its ultimate destination. Now it rested in the specially built display case in his enormous mansion, a treasure that only he could see and appreciate. It was his. No one else would ever be allowed to look at it again until the day he died. 

He stared at the rippling patina on the pot, wondering yet again what caused that effect. There was something almost…hypnotic about it. A faint frown moved over his mouth, but he couldn’t look away. Colors formed and dissipated across its surface, like miniature rainbows. The zig-zag pattern of lines seemed to swell and warp. His eyes widened a little, as did his mouth. He was unable to look away from the pot, drawn into it inexorably. The face on the front seemed to yaw and pitch in front of his eyes. He heard himself make a small sound, almost like a whimper. 

He saw his own hands reaching out as though in a dream. He opened the front of the display case and lifted the pot out. He set it on top of the glass case, his mind shrilling inside of him. What was he doing?! And why couldn’t he stop?! His hand curled over the ornamental lid of the pot, beginning to lift it without his conscious consent. His mind was really screaming now, but his hand didn’t listen. The lid came away, leaving a gaping black maw for his eyes to fasten on. 

Something was inside of the pot. Sullen reddish light gleamed there, whirling at the heart of the vessel. Suddenly it surged up and out, a thick cloud of some viscous substance that reared up like a striking snake. Terror washed through him, but there was nothing that he could do to escape. His body was frozen, immobile. The gelatinous ooze rose slowly higher, coming to hover in front of his face. It looked more and more like a serpent made of some unknown substance, like a cobra coming out of a basket. He somehow could feel it ‘looking’ at him, even though there was nothing like eyes anywhere in the heaving mass. Then it seemed to decide that it liked what it saw, because it began to flow toward his face.

He wanted to flinch, to jerk back. But his body refused to cooperate, and to his horror he felt the stuff enter his nostrils and mouth. It was choking him, suffocating him, he was going to die…but then it somehow began to be absorbed into his body and brain, until every cell was overlaid with a patina of the weird substance. Then and only then did his body lose its rigidity, but it was too late. The man could sense his strange passenger in every part of his being – a dark entity that was enjoying its first outing in a human host body in several hundred years. It felt a kind of gratitude toward him for stealing the vessel that it had been chained up in – the Shinto priests whose temple the pot had resided in for so long had been its jailors. But now it was free! Free to do whatever it wanted in this strange new world, a world that had changed drastically since last it had been out and about. And it owed its freedom to the greed of its new host. 

He felt sick. But there was nothing he could do but endure, for the creature had partial control over his body. He couldn’t kill himself, for example; it would never allow that. He would simply have to resign himself to acting as a host body for this entity. He turned and began to walk toward the door leading out of his private collection room, for the thing riding him was intent on seeing all that there was to see. It was a strange and awful tourist, let loose in the modern world. 

 

 

Soon he was driving the streets. The entity looked at everything with interest through his eyes, wondering at all of the amazing things that humanity had created since the time that it had been sealed in the clay pot. Finally, it forced him to pull up at the curb in a poorer part of town, for it was beginning to feel hungry. He didn’t like this thought, but his body did what it was told. He got out of his Mercedes and approached some boys standing in front of a convenience store. They were young and vigorous, full of energy. He liked the look of them – or at least it did, anyway. 

The boys stared at him in puzzlement. “What’s up, dude?” one of them rasped. His eyes scanned the man’s expensive suit and the Cartier watch at his wrist. “Whoa, big spender. Whatcha doin’ in this part of town?”

“I’m hungry,” he replied, shrinking inside of himself at how wooden his voice sounded.

They laughed. “Man, what are you gonna do?” the same youth demanded. “Get a soft pretzel and a hot dog? I thought you rich guys didn’t eat that kinda junk.”

He was reaching out. Helplessly, hopelessly, he watched his own hands stretch out toward the speaker. He wanted to yell, to warn the boy to run, but he couldn’t. His tongue felt like lead in his mouth. The boy looked startled, but not fearful. Why would he? The man himself was a little soft and portly, clearly not a danger to a muscular young man such as himself. “Hey, dude, what the fuck?!” he exclaimed.

But then the man’s hands came to rest on his arm. He stiffened, making a horrible gurgling sound, as the entity inside of the man began to suck the energy out of the youth like a child sucking soda through a straw. The other boys yelled and tried to pry his fingers loose, but they were unsuccessful. The first boy’s knees were buckling, and his face was the color of chalk. He folded up, falling to the sidewalk to lie still and unmoving.

The man felt a surge of energy flow through his body. The stolen lifeforce made him feel extremely energized. He turned his eyes on the other boys, who were staring at his friend. They looked at him, and almost as one turned and ran away as fast as they could. Terror had twisted their faces. Whatever they’d seen in his eyes had made them flee, which he was grateful for. It was bad enough that he’d killed the first boy – and it was obvious that the boy was dead. Drained dry by the life-sucking entity riding inside of him. Despair washed through him.

The entity uncoiled inside of him. It wanted to see more of the wondrous city called Los Angeles, now that it had fed well. He began to walk back toward his car, leaving the body lying on the sidewalk behind him. 

 

 

The Kami known as Sofu D moved around the pet shop at the heart of Chinatown, stocking the shelves and dusting the place busily. He was followed by a small shadow, as his tiny son Maoh was happily exercising his legs. The toddler bustled after his father, watching with his huge amber eyes everything that his parent did. One finger was stuck in his little red mouth, and he sucked at it thoughtfully as Sofu knelt down to put some things on the lower shelves. 

Since this brought him nearly to face level with Fox, the boy reached out with a chubby hand and pulled at the red-and-green patterned cheongsam that his father was wearing. Sofu turned his head, smiling at his offspring tenderly. “What is it, little one?” he asked.

“Cake,” the boy said demandingly, pointing at his own mouth.

“Ah, you’re hungry. Very well, we’ll go and get some of that coffee cake that your father was kind enough to bring us yesterday,” Sofu scooped up his young son, letting Maoh ride on his hip as he made his way toward the kitchen. 

Fox snuggled up against his parent, content to be carried now. He was an absolutely adorable creature, with a short head of glossy black hair and those enormous amber eyes that he’d inherited from his human father, Daniel White Horse. He was wearing a miniature version of his parent’s cheongsam, and he resembled nothing so much as a tiny porcelain doll with a painted face as Sofu carried him into the kitchen and set him at the table. “Sit there,” Sofu directed him, bustling away to get the coffee cake and warm it up so that they could both have some. 

He was glad that Maoh was weaned now. The boy ate the same things that adult Kamis ate, mostly sweets, vegetables, and rice. Sofu’s tiny breasts had disappeared now that Fox didn’t need breast milk from him. He knew that Daniel was pleased that they had disappeared, since he hadn’t really liked the taste of Kami breast milk and so had avoided sucking on his mate’s nipples when they had sex until the breasts had finally gone for good. Since he had sensitive nipples, Sofu had felt the loss of that stimulation acutely.

At least they didn’t need to use birth control anymore. The Kami mating bond ensured the conception of only one child between the mated pair. For them to have another they’d need to go through a sort of miniature version of the bonding at some later date, and Sofu suspected that that would not happen since he himself was in early middle age for a Kami. He was a little too old to be breeding again, which was fine by him. Soon he’d have another grandchild to spoil, and eventually a great-grandchild as well. Sofu’s small family was growing by leaps and bounds, at least by Kami standards; and he felt great joy over that fact. Family was everything to him.

As though his thoughts had conjured the man, his son Lord D came into the kitchen slowly. He had to move slowly, for he was twelve months pregnant by now. His belly was enormous (at least for a Kami, anyway), and he moved with a distinct waddle. He had been taking a nap, and he yawned a bit as he greeted his father and tiny brother. “Did you sleep well, my son?" Sofu asked him as he put the coffee cake in the oven to warm.

“Somewhat. But he keeps kicking me. I swear his legs are going to turn out to be as long as Stephen’s,” Lord D complained as he rubbed at the mound of his belly tiredly.

Sofu laughed softly. “It will be over soon,” he pointed out. 

“And I am very glad of that,” Lord D remarked fervently, reaching out to stroke his hand through the hair atop his brother’s head. Maoh grinned at him with his tiny white baby teeth. “I feel as though I have been pregnant for centuries.”

“A subjective feeling, but somehow accurate,” his father agreed dryly. “Sit down with Fox, and I’ll make us some tea as well as the coffee cake.”

Lord D gladly maneuvered his bulk down onto a chair next to his brother. Maoh squealed: “Buther!” at the top of his lungs, making Lord D smile at him. 

“Such an energetic little one,” he remarked. “Although something tells me that this one will be the same way,” he added, patting his belly lightly.

“Most likely. It will be nice to have children playing around the shop again,” Sofu noted, making Lord D sigh. Since Chris had started talking aloud again, Leon had decided to start sending him to public school during the day. The boy was surprisingly happy about this fact, but T-chan was miserable. He’d lost his playmate, and didn’t like the fact that he could only play with Chris on the weekends. The goat boy moped around the shop, glaring at all of them as though it were their fault that he no longer had anyone to play with. And he’d bitten Leon at least half a dozen times since Chris had started school, obviously having figured out that it was the blonde detective’s fault that Chris went away for most of the day now. 

“It’s too bad that Maoh isn’t quite old enough to romp with T-chan,” Lord D noted. 

“Yes, it would save Leon some scars,” Sofu agreed with a twinkle in his golden eyes. His son giggled behind his hand. 

“Father, that’s terrible,” he said rebukingly, a scolding spoiled by the fact that that he was laughing as he said it.

Sofu grinned, shrugging. “I think that T-chan is teaching Cheng Tse to bite Leon, as well,” he remarked. “He told me that the dog nipped his ankle yesterday when he came home.”

Lord D laughed heartily at this. “Oh, poor Leon,” he said. “It’s not easy when T-chan doesn’t like you for some reason.”

“And it’s only bound to get worse before it gets better,” the older Kami agreed.   
“Because Chris likes his school and is getting along there well. That means that he’s not going to decide that he wants to stop going anytime soon. Ah, well. Leon will simply have to endure.”

“Yes, with loud complaints and much cursing,” Lord D agreed, his purple eyes sparkling. 

The two Kamis laughed again, which made Fox giggle as well. “If you will watch him, my son, I will go and fetch your sons to eat as well,” Sofu said with a nod at Fox. Lord D nodded, and the elder Kami went to round up the rest of his family to eat their lunch together. 

 

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